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Sammy’s breath was warm against my ear. He didn't ask for my stocks or my mansions. He whispered, "You're sad because of the girl in the picture, not because of your legs." / Chapter 4 / 10

Chapter 4 - THE JOURNEY OUT OF THE MANSIONFor the first time in a year, I left the house. I didn't take my security detail. I took Sammy and Rebecca. As we drove into the heart of Chicago’s industrial district, Sammy didn't look at the skyscrapers. He looked at the shadows, pointing to places where he said "the others" were waiting.

"The others?" I asked.

"The people you forgot," he replied. "The ones who were in the car with you when you crashed."

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The heavy mahogany door of the east gallery closed softly behind me, but the silence inside did not comfort me. It pressed down like lead.

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